I went to Keens Steakhouse for the first time. After my $150 meal, I get why it's been around for over 100 years.

What is a power lunch? Well, think of it as a business lunch with some element of showboating.

And when you think about a place ripe for flexing a corporate card with no spending limit, any of New York City's legendary steak houses come to mind.

Keens, in particular, is situated in midtown on 36th Street and Sixth Avenue. It's an ideal location for those working in Midtown Manhattan, home to headquarters for major companies like Citigroup, CBS, and Colgate-Palmolive.

Plus, the history of an old New York social club adds to its exclusive allure. So why wouldn't it be one of the top options for a midday schmooze fest?

According to the company, the space was originally part of the Lambs Club, a famous theater and literary social group founded in London. Ownership switched hands in '85 when Lambs Club manager Albert Keen took over.

It quickly became a haunt for male playwrights, producers, actors, and more.

When I walked through the doors, I could immediately tell this place was once an exclusive Manhattan social club. But that wasn't a bad thing.

I walked down the steps and was led to a side room with a few chair tables and leather banquets lining the walls.

My guest (my dad, who beat me to the restaurant) was guided to the bar room one space over to wait.

It was a cozy space that felt largely unpretentious — a sort of cross between an old dive bar and somewhere you'd find a plaque that read, "Alexander Hamilton drank here."

We walked back to our dining spot and settled in to look at the menu.

I was unable to pop by for lunch, so I opted for an early (5:15 p.m.) dinner on a Monday. Like many classic steak houses, the menu is lengthy without being too overwhelming.

I found a raw-bar section, nine appetizer choices, four specials, four seafood mains, seven sides, and five types of potatoes to choose from.

There were also 11 red meat options under "steaks and meats," which ranged in price from $59 (a serving of two lamb chops) to $172 (prime porterhouse for three).

There's also a selection of house-made desserts, such as Key-lime pie and carrot cake.

At first glance, the rolls looked a little lame. But once I tore into one, I was impressed.

The outer crust was crackly but not too tough, and the soft interior was both fragrant and flavorful. It was not quite warm, but not quite room temperature in a perfect way.

The roll paired well with the butter, though it was a bit too firm to spread easily.

Carrots and celery sticks were cold and crunchy, while a lone pickle half and two kalamata olives provided some acidic — albeit confusing — variety.

I'm a fan of blue-cheese dressing, so I welcomed the ramekin filled with that tangy, gloopy dip. My dad, though, is not a fan and ate his veggies dry.

Fortunately, our first courses weren't too far behind.

Being a fan of steak houses myself, I knew exactly what I needed to try in order to be able to truly put this place to the test.

This meant starting with a wedge salad ($22) and a shrimp cocktail ($28).

The salad was originally priced at $17, but for $5 more, I added chopped tomatoes and bacon — two pretty essential components to this dish.

The iceberg wedge came doused in more blue-cheese dressing and dusted with chopped chives and scallion rounds. (The staff served the order in two halves so my cheese-loathing guest could still enjoy his dish.)

Small sticks of thick-cut steak-house bacon and halved cherry tomatoes danced around the plate like presents under a Christmas tree.

The bacon pieces were juicy and caramelized, offering a strong meaty flavor that was well worth paying for. They were warm, while the rest of the dish was fridge-cold, which felt intentional and appreciated.

The tomatoes added acidity and brightness, though I imagine they'll bring even more to the plate if you order them at the height of their natural summer season.

Iceberg lettuce is typically used for its refreshing crunch factor as it's largely water and doesn't have much flavor on its own. In this salad, it stood proudly in its role since there were lots of other flavorful components to carry it.

Our order of iced shrimp cocktail came with five medium-to-large shrimp, thinly sliced lemon, and, of course, cocktail sauce.

The chilled metal serving container was a nice touch that kept everything super cold as it should be. Notably, the shrimp were shelled down to the tail so guests trying to make a deal over lunch don't have to bite and suck to get the most out of their shellfish.

Although the shrimp were cooked well — not rubbery and overdone but not too soft and raw — the cocktail sauce tasted a bit too much like ketchup and not enough like horseradish. I wanted more bite and tang to make this feel special.

The lemon discs looked beautiful and delicate, but they were tough to squeeze out over the fish, which I think contributed to the imbalance of flavors.

As the Voltaggio brothers of the eponymous high-end steak house told me, you go to a steak house for something special. You can get a filet mignon or New York strip anywhere, so why not try something a little out of the ordinary?

Some use it as an excuse (a good one, if you ask me) to drop hundreds of dollars on a porterhouse. But if you're coming to Keens, I've learned you'd be remiss to not go with the mutton chops ($68).

This historic eatery is known for serving this specialty cut of sheep. Throughout my meal, as more folks arrived and tables started to fill, I saw that nearly every table had mutton on it.

Even if you're leaning toward something else, Keens offers its "taste of mutton" for $29, so you can still nibble on its famous dish.

With a flavor profile akin to really good lamb, this dish felt indulgent, luxurious, and primal — all things you want to feel from a steak house.

It's served sliced off the bone, but a Flintstonian remain was left on the plate, still hanging on to bits of its meat perfect for sinking your teeth into at the end — though maybe not during a business lunch.

Cooked medium rare, the mutton was served with a heaping pile of escarole, which was cooked perfectly so as to both wilt like a sautéed green and retain its bite and firm spine.

Once we started eating our way through the meat, and the greens fell to the bottom, they soaked in all the jus, becoming much saltier than they were on their own.

That was a bummer, but the Keens menu notes you can request lighter salt levels on your meat. So, if you have a sensitive palate, that might be the move for you.

Paired with our appetizers and the dinner roll, this was a perfect amount of meat for the two of us — we were full but not uncomfortably stuffed.

In my opinion, this meat needs little to nothing else, flavor-wise. But that doesn't stop Keens from serving it up with a house-made mint jelly.

The jelly is strong, slightly gloopy, and speckled with tiny green ribbons of mint leaves. I enjoyed it, but I really just wanted to taste the flavors of the mutton.

Ginger ale is one of the only sodas I actually like (except for Poppi), so I was stoked to see Keens offers an in-house version.

Unlike Canada Dry (the only canned ginger ale worth drinking, if you ask me), this ginger ale was slightly cloudy and had a color more in line with a margarita. It tasted mostly like ginger beer but had a slight sweetness that made it stand out.

If I were craving the familiarity of my favorite canned soda, this probably wouldn't have done the trick. But it was a fun non-alcoholic beverage to sip on, and it only ran me $5.

From the old-New-York décor to the tasty meats and definitely good-enough appetizers, it makes sense why someone might want to give his historic haunt a try — especially on someone else's dime.

With separate dining rooms, you can likely find the perfect nook or be-seen table for whatever kind of meeting you're hosting.

The gift-shop counter at the door might cheapen the experience a bit, but it's great for someone looking for culinary tourism — think someone treating an out-of-town client to a meal.

And when the food, service, and atmosphere hit, who really cares about a little gimmick in the corner?